How Young and Innocent We Were
by TheRedHorror
Summary: Instead of being tortured and hated as a child, Erik is the adopted son of loving parents who accept him. He is also an older brother. And when Christine comes along, how will he be Angel to her when he never had the need to hide? Will the love triangle with Raoul, Erik, and Christine still exist?
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Hey, everyone! Just your friendly, neighborhood RedHorror here! So, this is a fic that I literally came up with 3/4 of it in the shower, so take that as you will. But the general idea is one I've entertained for years! It is not very eloquent or overly detailed, but I didn't want it to be; I just wanted to tell the story. I don't have the entire thing written yet, but I do want to finish it.**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**Also, I should add that this Philippe is not Leroux's Philippe, as in Raoul's brother. I just wanted to use that name lol**

**Chapter One—Yearning**

It was an ordinary Thursday night. The Vicomte Philippe De Chagny had been locked in his office for hours, sorting through requests for his funding or attending a charity event, business documents, and complaints about the state of the city and the government. He sighed as he finally pushed his chair from the desk, ending the long evening of tedious responses. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he stifled a yawn.

A soft knock on his door then the sound of it opening brought him out of his stupor. Estelle, the Vicomtesse, stepped into the dimly lit office. "You've been in here for hours, dear." She said just over a whisper, even though no one was around.

"I'm done now." He stood from his chair, and she stepped a bit closer.

"I get so lonely when you hide away in here." He knew where this conversation was going as soon as she dropped her full lips into a frown.

"We've discussed this, Estelle." It took a lot to keep his tone even and emotionless. He could hardly restrain himself when looking at her pleading blue eyes.

"I know, but it is not fair! I'm so lonely, Philippe! I want a child, but-but!" She burst into tears, pressing her wrists into her eyes as the floodgates broke loose.

Two years of marriage and no children had worn on the happiness of the two aristocrats. Philippe was expected to have an heir to the Comte title, and the beautiful Estelle was expected to provide it. An arranged marriage, something they had known would happen since adolescence, had not helped the situation. People were beginning to see through the lie that they were simply not ready for children yet; that they wanted to spend more time together. Yes, everyone knew something was wrong.

Estelle's frequent trips to the orphanage did not lessen the rumors either. She said it was charity, and in a way it was. She did help the workers, but her ulterior motive was more than evident. Yet the only one that truly knew the yearnings of her heart was her husband. He knew she wanted one of those poor children, left all alone in this merciless world. But they were De Chagnys. De Chagnys do not have orphans as the heirs to the estate, no less the title of Comte! And he had explained this to her many times, and she claimed she understood; and yet…

He sighed and took her into his tired arms, being the crying shoulder he pledged to be in their wedding vows. Had he not also pledged to be a loving husband and father?

The tears subsided, and they fell into a soft embrace. Neither was particularly happy, but at least both could be sad about the same thing. Yes, he wanted to be a father; he wanted her to be a mother. She deserved it. But what could he do? Go against tradition? Well, yes, he could; but could he?

"Come, my dear, it is late." He pulled away and placed his hands on her arms. She would not meet his eyes. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and led the way out the room.

**(A/N) So yeah, um that's chapter one! I know, I know, the writing style is lazy. But hey ¯\\_(****ツ****)_/¯ You don't always feel like spending hours on a chapter *cough it's still laziness cough***

**Review please! It means so much :")**

**Also, REMdream... hi C: bet you didn't expect this**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N) Hello people of the world! I give you part two~~~**

**Chapter Two—Fate**

Even in the dead of night, there was no quiet in his mind. His sleeping wife's slow and steady breathing did nothing to lull him to sleep; instead he envied her resting state. It was not unusual for him to suffer from insomnia, but tonight felt different. He had nothing particular on his mind, yet everything was on it. Was this his punishment for denying his wife happiness?

Finally, his mind drifted into that unpleasant state of half-consciousness. He knew what was going on around him, yet it all felt like a dream. The loud swing of the front door opening, the piercing cry of an infant, the hurried footsteps through the house—what an odd dream.

Yet when pounding erupted on the door of his bed chamber, the dream state ended. Simultaneously, he and his wife bolted up in bed. He rushed to his feet and put on a robe; what was happening at this late hour that was so important?

He swung the door open, and was met by his housekeeper, a single candle lighting her face and revealing her distraught features.

"What on earth is the matter, Rose?" His anger dissipated at her frightened face.

"Oh, Monsieur, you must come downstairs at once!" The poor woman was on the verge of hysterics.

Philippe heard the soft footsteps of his wife approaching. She threw her arm around Rose's shoulder in a motherly fashion, although she was many years her junior. "What is wrong, Rose?" She asked in only the way she could. Her voice always had a calming effect.

"Someone left their baby on the doorstep!" She cried, leaning into the arms of the young woman.

That was hardly unusual. Many desperate mothers abandoned their little ones on the steps of the rich, hoping they would take pity on the child and give them a good life. It was really no shock Estelle's doorstep had been chosen.

"So? What has you so shaken?" Philippe's impatience was growing at each tear the older woman shed.

"Oh! His face!" At that, Rose buried her face in her mistress's shoulder as if her life depended upon it.

**(A/N) The end is way too dramatic... BUT DID ANYONE GUESS IT? Yeah, you probably all did XD**

**Thoughts? Do you like it? Is it too cheesy?**

**Also, to those who also are reading Convenience! I will try to post a new chapter either Friday or Saturday! I have not abandoned it; I just do not want to over post before I am finished with the entire fic.**


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N) So, I was not going to post a chapter of this today, but semicolonial's extremely kind review changed my mind! It made me feel far better about this fic to know you like the writing style!**

**Chapter Three—Fear Can Turn To Love**

As soon as she could tear herself away from Rose, Estelle ran from her room and down the stairs. She did not even hear her husband calling after her; she heard nothing but the steadily increasing wail of a baby. She had a mother's heart, and that heart was breaking at each cry.

"Where is he?" She cried as soon as she reached the foyer, where a number of servants had gathered to see what was happening. The question was rhetorical, for the screams of the baby came from one corner of the room. She walked closer to the small basket the cries emanated from, wondering why no one had taken the child into their arms. The gaslights had been turned up in the room, and she could see quite well the small figure of a newborn baby wrapped in a thin, soiled cloth.

Her mother's heart broke anew when she saw the right side of the child's face.

"Get some clean water and fresh blankets! Now!" She ordered without ever taking her eyes off the infant. The sound of steps leading away from the room assured her that she had been heard. Once her request had been fulfilled, she lifted the baby and placed him in the clean, warm water, washing him with all the tender care of a mother. Once clean, she swaddled him in a fresh blanket and pressed him to her chest, against her heartbeat. She had read that a baby calmed down when it could hear its mother's heartbeat; when this child's tears ceased, she knew she would become this baby's mother.

"Estelle, let me see him," Her husband gently ordered as he came into the foyer. She moved to face him, the light falling on his misshapen features. He did not gasp; he did not shake his head; he did not even move.

Nothing needed to be said in that moment. The silent agreement was understood by everyone, and the crowd dispersed to go back to bed, leaving just the husband and wife to look at the child—their child.

**(A/N) Sorry for how short it is! DX**

**Also, can I just vent for five seconds that I mess up posting every time! Going from Word to doc manager is an absolute pain for me. Rant over.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four—Family**

A simple letter stating they had adopted a son is all Philippe sent to his and Estelle's family. Many half-hearted congratulations were sent in response, except by his father. He payed a personal visit.

"Philippe, this is madness! Taking in an orphan! What of your own children? Have you given up on Estelle giving you children all ready?!" His father bellowed, pacing back and forth in front of him, as he did when Philippe was a mischievous child. The older man had grayed more since they had last seen each other. "And you tell me he is deformed? DEFORMED, PHILIPPE!"

He took in a sharp breath as he prepared to respond to his father. He knew the child would always have a difficult life because of his face, but he hoped his family would understand; what a false hope that was. "No, I have not 'given up' on her, Father! But this child was brought to us! We couldn't possibly turn him away."

"So is every street rat to become a De Chagny then?" The Comte Alexandre De Chagny scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose; a quirk his son inherited.

"Of course not! But Estelle loves him, and frankly I want him too! He needs a loving family because of-"

"Ah, yes, his face. Bring the child here and let me see him. What was his name again?" His father interjected.

"Erik." Philippe responded, gritting his teeth at the way his father was treating him, like a stupid child. Some things never change.

"What a strange name," He murmured under his breath, taking a seat and checking his pocket watch.

"Perhaps I should have named him after you then?" Philippe could not help smirking at his father's agitated state at that remark. Estelle had chosen the name; she said she had heard it a few times and thought it a lovely name. It suited the child.

The baby was brought in by Estelle, for she was still unwilling to relinquish him to any nurses for a long period of time. Motherhood looked good on her, even Alexandre had to admit it, although not verbally.

"Is that to become the next Comte?!" The child's adopted grandfather exclaimed, quickly standing to his feet.

Estelle pulled the child close to her chest, fire burning in her eyes. "How dare you!? He is an innocent babe!"

"Born out of wedlock, no doubt. Or perhaps worse."

Philippe quickly stood to defend the defenseless baby, but his wife was faster than he was. "Get out of my house, and don't you dare come back until you can act like a decent human being!" She pulled the baby even closer to her chest, glaring daggers at the elderly man.

"You are lucky you are my only son, Philippe! Or I would give my title to another for the way you have disgraced the family name tonight!" Alexandre fumed, grabbing his hat and cane, storming out of the room. Erik began to cry, and Estelle cradled him, shushing him and planting kisses to his forehead. She did not care what anyone said; she loved her son.

**(A/N) Baby Erik in general just makes me want to cry. He didn't deserve all the bad stuff that happened to him *sobs* so the least I can do is give him a better childhood *weeps***

**Well, if you need me, I'll be in the corner crying.**

**Hope you enjoy, and please review!**

**And don't think too hard about baby Erik being sung lullabies. Don't do it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N) New chapter, yay! I'd like to give a huge thanks to all my readers and reviewers! You people are great!**

**Chapter 5—Childhood**

Estelle had hired a wet nurse to take care of Erik, but she spent most of her time with him anyways. Blood meant nothing to her; she truly saw the child as her own, loved him like her own. And she protected him like a mother bear does her cubs. She made it clear quickly to the servants that any remarks about the child's face would not be taken lightly and could end in termination of their job.

So, when she saw that the nurse had been covering Erik's face with a cloth, she made sure to let the woman know that not only was she fired, but that she was an utter disgrace and poor excuse of a woman.

Rose quickly recovered from the initial shock of his face, and soon became his second protector. She assured Estelle that he was a very well behaved baby, hardly ever crying and sleeping so well at night. Both women swelled with pride over the infant.

Philippe, admittedly, took a while to truly grasp the role of father. Having never been close with his own father and barely being around children, he hardly knew what to do. Insuring that his child was legally a De Chagny and would be well off financially was his main objective for the first several weeks. His father's threat had frightened him, so he put in his will that Erik would become Comte if no male heirs were produced.

But soon, he began to truly spend time with the child, and he finally understood the appeal of fatherhood.

Erik did wonders for Philippe and Estelle's relationship. He did not erase all their problems, but he mended some of them; he brought them closer. Estelle was happier that she had a child, and Philippe was happier now that Estelle was.

None of the gossip and rumors hurt them anymore; they only wanted to protect Erik from cruel words and the cruel people who spoke them. That became their purpose; that and giving him a wonderful childhood and education. The best tutors were found for him, and it was quickly discovered that this child was, quite frankly, a genius. He soaked in all the information and learned faster than most children his age. But music was his expertise. All of his teachers declared him a prodigy when it came to music. And his parents could not have been prouder.

**(A/N) I probably should have went into more detail about his childhood, but boy I'm bad at talking about children. I haven't spent much time with kids sooooo. But there will be some more young Erik, so no worries!**


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N) Hullo! So, it has only been like three days since the last update, but I'm just really ready to get to more exciting things than childhood stuff, as I imagine most of you are too. Sorry if it has been too boring! Next chapter, we will be introduced to Christine! And soon they will all be adults lol**

**Also, I got a huge burst of inspiration the past like two days and wrote a few more chapters! I'm really excited to get to some of the later chapters!**

**And power214063, here is the chapter about Erik and Raoul! I hope it is to your liking :3**

**Chapter Six—A Brother**

Erik did not know much about babies, but he knew he did not like the way they took his mother away from him; and the baby was not even here yet! It would not be here for another three months, but his mama had to stay in bed nearly all day! And his papa was busy during the day, leaving him with nothing but his lessons and idle time.

They say that idle hands are the devil's workshop, but on this eight-year-old, they only produced the most beautiful and innocent music. When telling his mama he was bored, she told him to write music to play for the baby. He took this suggestion seriously and composed lullabies on the piano for his new brother or sister. He hoped it was a sister; he hoped she would look like his mama.

But it was a boy; a little, red, squirming bundle in his mother's arms. Raoul. They said his name is Raoul, after their great-grandfather. He did not think something so little looked like a Raoul. He also did not think something so small should have such a strong grasp on his finger. But his mama and papa seemed very happy with their little Raoul.

He had blue eyes like their mama, but that was it. He had blond hair like their papa. Like he did too, but it did not look the same as papa's hair. Nothing about him looked like any of them, but they were his family. And he loved them all three like any child would.

His doubts about the baby quickly turned into curiosity. Once the curiosity passed, he became protective like any good big brother would be. He had to be near when anyone held Raoul; he had to take him from family member to family member. Everyone was so happy, even grand-père. He had never seen his grandfather smile that much.

He did not understand why his mother seemed so sad when grand-père left, nor why his papa looked so mad. Not until he was much older would he find out why.

Philippe deeply regretted writing into his will that Erik would become Comte as long as no male heir was produced; he regretted telling his father that even more. For his father was quick to remind him that Raoul would now become the next Vicomte.

"That isn't fair! Erik has been learning how to play the role of Vicomte since infancy! He has always known that one day he would be Vicomte!" Estelle argued, deeply upset for her little Erik, yet torn for her Raoul. What was the right thing to do? Rewrite the will, or keep the title in the bloodline?

"The title passes to the firstborn son, which Raoul is. Thus, it should go to Raoul." Alexandre sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, confident he could win this battle.

"But in our mind, Erik is the firstborn." Philippe replied, not wanting to rob his son of his inheritance. Yet wasn't he taking it from Raoul? Why did this have to be so complicated!

"I want what is best for both of them." The distraught mother buried her face in her hands. Titles and estates, all of it was pointless! All it did was cause more problems than necessary.

"Raoul is a De Chagny, through and through. And I just know he will have the air of and poise of one! Erik is… very gifted. He would be happier playing music than attending boring charity events!" The elder man's words were an obvious insult, but they had truth behind them. Erik was not a De Chagny in personality; he was his own person. A person who dearly loved his independence. Would he be happier without the title? Or would he feel betrayed?

"Perhaps we should stick to tradition, my dear." Philippe sighed, pinching the bride of his nose. Neither choice felt right; no parent should have to pick between their children. "Erik will still be provided for handsomely. He will never go without anything, I promise that."

"My poor Erik," She let the tears flow, accepting her husband's decision. She only hoped Erik would never hold a grudge over this; she could never bare that.

**(A/N) Poor Erik! *insert like five crying emojis* He always seems to get the short end of the stick, huh? I wonder if this could cause any… friction between the brothers later on (⨪_⨪)**

**I'm not sure if I'll update again this week. If I do, it will probably be the weekend. I don't want to run out of chapters!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7—A Violin and a Scarf**

The age difference between the two boys certainly played a part in their relationship. Erik felt he must protect his younger brother from everything and teach him all he knew, and Raoul looked up to him like he was a hero. Raoul was not talented in the arts like his brother, but Erik taught him regardless. Raoul was not a quick learner, but Erik helped him learn his letters and numbers. Raoul clung to his older brother like any little sibling would, causing him not to make many friends his age, until he was eight.

Their mama and papa decided that the boys needed some fresh air, out of the city and near the sea. They were sent to their aunt's summer house in Perros. No matter how many people Erik met, he would never like that first introduction; and Perros was full of new people, new people who stared at him. But Raoul drank it in; he loved meeting new people. He was a friendly, carefree child that everyone naturally loved. He was so different from the sixteen-year-old that carefully followed behind him as he ran across the shore.

Both heard the shrill scream of a little girl, but Raoul was first to notice to whom it belonged. A curly-haired brunette was reaching out towards the sea, the wind having torn the red scarf from her neck.

"Don't worry, mademoiselle! I'll get your scarf!" Cried Raoul, running into the water with clothes and shoes on.

"Raoul! Come back!" His agitated brother called after him; oh, Aunt Marie would not be happy about this. His plea fell on deaf ears, for the boy was already chest deep into the water, swimming to the red fabric laying on the surface of the water. He grabbed it, swam back to the girl, and triumphantly handed it over.

She squealed happily as she snatched it from his hands. Thank you's spilled from her mouth as the boy stood with his chest held high and his wet clothes and hair clinging to his body. She planted a kiss on the boy's wet cheek, causing him to blush as red as the scarf.

"My name is Christine Daaé! What is yours?" She smiled, thinking the young boy as brave as the princes in the stories her father told her.

"Raoul De Chagny!" He stated as princely as he felt, "And this is my brother Erik! ERIK!" He waved wildly at his brother, gesturing for him to come closer and meet his princess.

Little Christine always saw the beauty in everything; Papa said it was her special talent, next to singing. So, when she saw Raoul's brother, it only took her a second to look past his different face. Her only thought was to introduce them to her father as quickly as possible. Oh, she so rarely made friends her age!

Erik was rather unimpressed with the sprite of a girl his brother befriended. She was sweet and had a pretty voice for so young, but that was the most a teenager could think of a random eight-year-old. But he liked her father tremendously. He was a musician like himself; unlike himself, he specialized in the violin. He had never even played a violin, but Monsieur Daaé was quick to put one in his arms.

And so, the summer went. Raoul played with his new friend while Erik learned the violin from the Swedish musician. Erik would polish his new violin that was kindly gifted to him by Monsieur Daaé while the man told the children stories about angels of music and korrigans. It was the best summer all three children had ever had.

**(A/N) I actually really like this chapter. Was making Christine immediately unphased by Erik's deformity plot convenience? Yeah, probably XD But I don't think that even adult Christine would have been that freaked out by him had he not started screaming and calling her a lying Delilah and prying Pandora sooooooo**

**Also, I can just hear the part where Raoul screamed Erik's name. And I think it's cute for Gustave** **Daaé to have taught Erik, just sayinggg**

**Also, they will be adults in two more chapters! So, that's exciting!**


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N) Sorry everyone for the incredibly long break! But here is a new chapter for all you lovely readers, reviewers, and followers!**

**Also, power214063 asked an excellent question… does Erik find out he is adopted? Well, yes. But I am afraid that thought never occurred to me, so I did not write it in the fic XD But his parents told him in his teen years, so by now he knows. So… yeah XD**

**Chapter Eight—Little Lotte**

Little Christine never forgot those two boys she met by the sea. Even when her and papa packed up and moved to Paris, she still remembered them. After her papa became friends with a nice lady named Antoinette Giry who had a little daughter near Christine's age, she told Meg all about the two boys—one was so sweet, and the other could play almost as good as her father! If either father or daughter had thought to mention to Madame Giry the last name of the boys, she would have informed them that the De Chagnys lived in Paris. But neither thought to say that.

Her papa and Madame Giry became very close. Both widowed with a young daughter, they had much to connect over. Meg claimed they would marry, and Christine was not sure she liked that idea. Oh, she loved both Antoinette and Meg! But she did not want to share her father.

She claimed her selfishness is what made him become sick. Antoinette said that was entirely not true, but Christine believed naughty girls were punished, and this was her punishment. Her papa eased her worries by saying she was not being selfish, God simply was ready for him to go home. And once he was with the angels, he would send her the Angel of Music to protect her!

And she believed him.

After he went to Heaven, Madame Giry took her into her care and brought her to live at the opera. She became a ballerina in training, like Meg, and she was surrounded by music just like she always had been. But this music was different; it was not her papa's.

A child's grief yielded into acceptance as she lived her new life with her surrogate mother and sister. Every day she prayed the Angel would be sent to her and soon. Every night she was met with disappointment.

But she never forgot those two boys she met in Perros. No, not for the over ten years they were separated.

**(A/N) Gustave and Madame Giry being a couple is something I have headcanoned for a long time. I mean think about it. In the 2004 movie, Madame Giry takes in Christine and raises her! She even tells the managers that she thinks of her as a daughter! So why would she take Christine in for some random guy? Because she loved himmmmmmmmmmmm.**

**Just a thought :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**(A/N) Sorry for the long wait! But here is the new chapter!**

**And thanks to all the readers, followers, and reviewers!**

**Chapter Nine—Vicomte**

It was in Erik's eighteenth year that his parents decided to tell him that he would not be given the title of vicomte. Perhaps they waited too long, but anyone with bad news prefers not to tell it at once. They told Erik separately since Raoul was only ten.

He was upset; who would not be? Being promised something for years to have it suddenly taken away hurts. But he understood. In a way, he was almost grateful… almost. It was true that he did not like being the center of attention or being the socialite a vicomte is required to be; but it was his birthright! He may not have been the biological heir, but he was still the oldest De Chagny. He finally understood how Esau felt when he sold his birthright to Jacob for something to eat—but he did not make this decision like Esau did, no, it was made for him. His situation more resembled when Rebekah helped her son Jacob steal their father's blessing that was rightfully _Esau's._

And he knew Raoul would be the better vicomte. He was not jealous of his little brother; he just was disappointed in his parents. They did not have to say it, for he knew this was also his grandfather's wish. He knew the man disliked him simply by the way he had always spoiled Raoul. It was fair, he supposed when he was younger, for Raoul was his true grandchild. But it still hurt.

The tears that poured down his mother's face when she and his father told him he would not be vicomte was evidence enough that this was not an easy choice. But he loved and respected his parents too much to argue. After all, they knew best… right?

But it became too much to bare after a while, so he did what he had always determined not to do and went to university. It was in Paris, so he did not have to leave home; it was just enough to get his mind off titles and heritage. The looks and the whispers he received were not good replacements for his problems at home.

But he was learning more about music and music theory, expanding his abilities beyond even what the professors were capable of. They begged him to compose, to perform, to do something with his talent! But the wound had healed, and he did not want to leave his family. Why would he leave the only people who did not look at him like he was a freak?

And his family helped fill the emptiness in his chest he felt when couples walked past him. The adoring glances of a woman to her sweetheart were enough to break him; no one had ever looked at him like that, nor would they. If he could not have that kind of love, he would at least have his family's love.

Before long, six years had passed. Erik was a graduate from university, and Raoul was starting university himself. He came to Erik often for advice; he had always seen him as the best source for advice. Sadly, his older brother did not have much experience in being torn between loyalties.

"Gaston wants me to spend the weekend with him and his family, but Victor has been sick, so I hate to not go to that performance with him. I don't know what to do!" Raoul pinched the bridge of his nose—something he got from their father and grandfather. It took a lot for Erik not to laugh at the simplicity of the situation, but then again, he did not know how it felt for people that were not family to want his company.

"Victor has been your friend since childhood, Raoul. And he was sick, very sick. Spend time with him." He personally liked Victor more than Gaston… he really was not sure why. Just a feeling.

The relief in his brother's eyes of having his choice being made for him by someone he trusted was evident. Erik did not think he deserved that much faith in his choices; he also thought Raoul depended on him a bit too much—but it was nice to feel needed.

And when their grandfather died, he had never seen Raoul need someone more in his life. The death of the Count shook his little brother deeply. Of course, it hurt him too; he was his grandfather too after all! But he knew the man was not overly fond of him, so a deep relationship never formed. Seeing Raoul looking out the window yet not really _looking_ made Erik think that a grandparent/grandchild bond must be more special than he realized.

"I'm sorry," Erik sighed, a brotherly squeeze of his shoulder the best comfort he knew to give.

"He was your grandfather too, Erik," Raoul replied after a heavy silence reigned for several minutes.

"I know… but he was not… he-"

"I wish he had of treated you better. But… he's gone now. And father is now comte, which means I am now vicomte."

Erik felt his heart constrict. "Yes."

Raoul buried his face in his hands. "I don't like the pressure… I never have. Grand-père, he would always say I'd be such a great vicomte! His praise was… overwhelming. And now that I am vicomte, I feel like I've been punched in the throat! Given all this responsibility, yet the one man whose advice I need is taken away! It isn't fair."

"You have father and I." It was a genuine offer of help even though it came from a place of jealousy he did not like. This was his _brother_. He felt bile rise in his throat. _No_! No more of this envy. Raoul was vicomte, and he would help him. He would always help him.

That's what brothers did.

**(A/N) For anyone unfamiliar with the story of Jacob and Esau, here is a summary of it. Jacob and Esau were twins. Esau was born first, and Jacob was born holding onto Esau's heel. As adults, Esau came home one day from hunting, and he was starving. Jacob was cooking, and Esau asked for some food. Jacob said he would give it to him for his birthright, which the oldest son always received. Esau gave it up for the food. Later on, when their father Isaac was about to die, he asked Esau, his favorite, to go hunting and make him venison like he likes before he gave him his blessing, which was also reserved for the firstborn son. Rebekah, the mom, heard this, and told Jacob, her favorite, to trick Isaac into giving him the birthright. Her plan worked, and Jacob received the blessing. Esau was devastated and swore vengeance on his brother. Many, many years later, they made up and became brothers again.**

**And for anyone really confused about the Victor and Gaston thing. So, those were the first two French guy names I could think of, so I used them as Raoul's friends. Victor came from Victor Hugo, and Gaston, of course, came from Gaston Leroux. The reason I said Erik likes Victor more than Gaston is because Gaston Leroux wrote the Phantom novel, thus being the one who made Erik's life miserable. So... really weird joke but I thought it was hilarious XD**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10-Jealousy**

Raoul was handsome; anyone would admit that. His dirty blond hair, always so neat, framed his face perfectly. Sometimes he let it grow out to jaw-length, then at his brother's insistence, he would cut it. His blue eyes were as deep and beautiful as the sea; his lips thin and always smiling. His jaw was perfectly squared, and his cheekbones were high. He was tall and not overly broad shouldered, but he was strong. He was, honestly, _perfect_.

And the women were quite aware of that, as were their fathers. Nearly every man with a daughter near Raoul's age invited him to events. Poor, sweet, oblivious Raoul attended them all, even dragging his older brother with him. His older brother who was nearly everything he was not.

Erik was tall, yes. His chin was square, and his blue-green eyes were breathtaking. His strength easily bested his younger brother, and his hair was a similar shade to Raoul's… but not quite. He would have been extremely handsome; even he knew that. But it was apparently not meant to be, for the entire right half of his face was _hideous_. Puffy, red, blotchy skin covered from his mouth to past his hairline. Unnatural bumps marred what should have been soft skin on his cheek, the skin beneath his eye sagged, and his right nostril was flattened. Even his lips were not spared—the top-right of his lip stretched out and molded into the rest of his deformity.

He was unsure how people could bare to look at him, but he supposed people could get used to anything after enough exposure. His mother had insisted he never hide, so he had always been looked at, stared at, laughed at, terrified of. He did not mind so much now; he had been exposed to it, thus he was used to it.

He thought he was fine with it until he saw women practically flinging themselves at Raoul, yet only giving him a second glance to confirm that yes, he was just as horrible to look at as the first time. It felt ridiculous to be jealous of these girls who were many years his junior and were only interested in looks and wealth. But jealousy is not something that can always be easily explained. What hurt more than anything was how little Raoul cared about the affection he was being showered in. He was young and carefree and certainly not thinking of anything serious with these women, yet he flirted, he teased, he danced, because he _could_. Erik was left to watch, to wonder what it felt like to hold a woman in his arms. His mother, aunts, and the servants were the only women he had ever had much interaction with, but they were family. He wanted to know what… that felt like. That look he saw in his father's eyes when he looked at his mother; the look he saw in many of the couples' eyes at this dinner—what did that feel like?

He realized many years ago he would probably never know. Oh, he did not sit idle; he had tried to become acquainted with the women in their circle of friends, but his money apparently was not worth waking up to his face every day. He hardly blamed them; he did not like waking up with his face either.

So, he followed behind Raoul at these parties to make sure he did not do something foolish (Raoul was very level-headed, but Erik was paranoid), and he never did. They would leave together, many girls left behind, bragging about Raoul dancing with me the most, yes he did, Madeleine! With Raoul unconcerned, only talking about how great a party it was, the soup was superb, and did you hear that Monsieur Renald was moving to America?

Raoul was a socialite; he played the role of victome painfully well. Erik was a recluse; he played the role of adopted de Chagny painfully well. They balanced each other; neither realized it, but it was true. Erik made sure to keep his brother in check; Raoul made sure to take Erik to events that he was reluctant to go to. It was a good relationship. Erik always found it in himself to get over his envy, Raoul never learned about it, and their lives continued happily.


	11. Chapter 11

**(A/N) Okay, I've been putting off updating for TOO long, and I'm sorry. I was literally thinking about how I should update tonight when I saw a review from a guest saying this is one of their favorite phanfics. That. Oh gosh. That really got me. Thank you so much, whoever you are! This one's for you :D**

**Chapter 11-Patrons**

To say their parents liked music was an understatement. They had always been extremely supportive of Erik and his musical abilities, and the de Chagnys had long been supporters of the arts. So, when they heard that the Opera Populaire was in need of a patron, they gifted the position to Raoul for his twentieth birthday. To say Erik did not feel a sharp pang of envy would be a lie, but he quickly realized Raoul would do as he did with everything—come to him for advice. He could play patron from behind the scenes while Raoul got all the attention; that seemed fair.

And ask for his advice Raoul did. He knew some music theory and could play a little piano but help support an opera house! He knew nothing of that, but he luckily had a brother who did.

"They want to play… _Faust_ I think it's called? Does that sound like a good idea?" Raoul sat in his office in the opera house, his brother opposite him with a bemused look on his face.

"Yes, that is an excellent selection."

"What is it about?"

"Why should I spoil it for you? You will see it in a few months, apparently."

"Erik…" He could not hold in a soft chuckle at his little brother's frustration. Raoul was an excellent businessman, but he needed all the help he could get in matters of the arts.

"It's dark, tragic, and a love story—what sells, in other words. But the music, Raoul… the music." Raoul knew that dreamy look in his brother's eyes; he was mentally playing the music. A smile pulled at his lips.

"I'll save us the best seat. Box Five has an excellent view. And Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really not going to tell me what happens?" A laugh was his only response. He liked moments like this with his brother; it was so peaceful.

Opening night came far quicker than Raoul had expected—how did the actors memorize all those lines so quickly? And he and his brother sat in the red velvet seats of Box Five. Their parents were in another box with some friends. Raoul preferred it this way; he liked hearing Erik's critiques, and he was always franker when his parents were not around.

He was taken back by how marvelous the opera was. Erik was certainly right; this _is_ tragic. He was even more taken back by his brother's unusual silence. At entr'acte, right as he was opening his mouth to ask why so silent, Erik cut him off.

"The music is superb. The diva is lacking some passion in her voice, but technically, her voice is not bad. The acting is great, and the ensemble obviously are putting all their effort into this."

Raoul could not stop his smirk; Erik spoke with such authority. "And the ballet?" He expected an immediate response, something like, "They're very good, but I saw one poor girl miss a step." But he was met with an odd silence, and then:

"Did you see that one ballerina? She was beautiful."

To say he was shocked would be an absolute understatement. Erik had noticed a _girl?_ He had the notion to check his brother's temperature. "Which one?"

"I'll point her out next time…" With how low he said it, Raoul wondered if he were meant to hear it. His smile grew larger.

The next time the ballet was on stage, Erik was true to his word and pointed out the dancing beauty. She was easy to spot, with her dark curls trying to escape the pins holding them down and flying around her face as she danced. She was beautiful. And… familiar.

"Can… can it be? Christine!" Raoul suddenly stood to his feet, shock and utter joy coursing through him. Before Erik could register what he had said, his brother had run out the box, and he followed.

_Christine._

That was a name he had not thought of in a long time.

**(A/N) Am I the only one who likes to imagine Raoul has like zero idea how to be a patron of an Opera House?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12-Dear Old Friends**

Raoul had no idea where he was going, that much was obvious. He had the terrible habit of not paying attention at important moments, and apparently he had done just that the day he was given a tour of the opera house. Luckily, Erik already had the place and its many halls and passages memorized. He caught up with Raoul and led the way backstage. All the ballerinas were sitting, massaging their poor feet, while waiting for their next scene. As soon as he noticed Christine, Raoul plowed ahead.

"Christine! Christine Daaé! Where is your red scarf?"

By now, all the ballerinas were staring at the two brothers, and one stood up; she was even more beautiful up close, Erik thought.

"Monsieur?" She did not recognize Raoul at first. Erik saw realization dawn on her face as soon as she saw him; he was hard to forget. "Raoul?!" She practically ran to him, and he caught her in a childish embrace, a spin to finish it off. "Raoul, what are you doing here?" He was not sure he had ever seen someone look so happy.

"I'm the patron! Christine, I cannot believe it is really you! Oh, and of course, you remember my brother Erik!"

Erik was not quite so sure why he felt so nervous as he closed the distance between them. He heard a few of the other girls gasp, but it was quickly forgotten when Christine's sweet voice spoke:

"Yes, I do." Her smile was genuine as she offered him her hand; so formal, unlike she and Raoul. He eagerly accepted it and planted a kiss to her knuckles. Her skin was so soft.

"It is good to see you again, Miss Daaé." He paused. What else was there to say? "I hope your father is well." That was evidently the wrong thing to say, for her smile dropped.

"He… he passed away many years ago." He wanted to snatch the words back from his mouth; seeing her pain hurt almost as bad as the knowledge of the death of his old friend and teacher.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Daaé," He bowed his head slightly. When he met her eyes again, they were understanding.

"Please, just call me Christine. We are dear old friends, aren't we?" She flashed Raoul a beautiful smile then, one that made Erik wish had been pointed at him.

"Of course we are! In fact, you must join us for dinner! You can finally meet our parents!"

"Oh, I couldn't," Christine looked so young at that moment, so shy, so unsure.

"Please, I insist." Erik was hardly certain where he found the courage to speak again, but he was glad he did, for Christine gave in and said yes. She opened her mouth to say more but was quickly cut off by what he presumed was the ballet mistress calling the girls to get ready for their next scene. She hurried off with a smile and left the two brothers totally shocked by this newfound information.

Christine was in Paris. And she certainly was not the gawkish girl she once was.

**(A/N) I hope to update more now that I'm done with college until the fall! I really want to finish these stories! But for now, I hope you liked this chapter!**


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